


Everything But Coffee

by someoneloveshumanity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: deancasbigbang, First Kiss, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5194859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneloveshumanity/pseuds/someoneloveshumanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Dean couldn’t be happier to have his newly-human best friend Castiel staying in the bunker with himself and his brother, their new living situation didn’t come without its own list of problems. For one, the ex-angel was a nonfunctional grumpy son of a bitch before he got his coffee in the morning. Then they found out the hard way his first time out on a case with them that he was lactose intolerant. And Dean was very quickly coming to realize that he was head-over-heels, stupidly and wholly in love with him, but that was another list all together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[Art] Everything But Coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156297) by [Nonexistenz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz). 



> Hi guys! I just wanted to say that I've had so much fun working on this fic and with my artist (nonexistenz). It's my first fic ever, I hope you enjoy it :)

Another day, another hunt, another scar added to the multitude that littered his skin. Much like the freckles that made their home on every inch of his body, they were reminders the path his life had taken him on.

Many years had passed since the night he had run out of their burning home with his baby brother in his arms while their mother lost her life to the flames. The memory had become no more than, and simultaneously so much more than, an ache his heart had long since hardened around. Now for the hundredth, maybe even thousandth time in his life, he was slumped in a dingy motel room while his brother brought the scattered constellations on his skin together again stitch by stitch. The scowl on his face was the only indication that he wasn’t exactly enjoying having a needle poked through the fresh wound, but he didn’t move an inch, that would just make it worse.

“I can’t believe you got taken out by a fucking fence,” Sam muttered under his breath with a teasing smile and Dean rolled his eyes, hissing under his breath when Samjabbed him again.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, “I took out more vamps than you anyway.”

He was never going to hear the last of this. The hunt had gone fine, perfectly really. It was when they had been celebrating after a job well done, that a friendly shove between brothers turned into a childish war and Dean tripped into the only sharp piece of fence for a mile in either direction. Go figure.

On one hand, he was happy to see a smile on his brother’s face, even if it was at his own expense. The trials had done a number on Sammy and there had been a moment or two where he thought he was going to lose him for good, but here they were, three months down the road and hunting almost like normal. Sam still got a little lightheaded and weak sometimes, but he was getting better every day. Dean could survive some teasing if it meant he was recovering.

Sam just hummed a laugh under his breath, both brothers looking over their shoulders when the motel room door opened and Cas stumbled in with their gear, exhausted and blood splattered. He greeted them with a grunt as he dropped the bags on one of the beds and made a beeline for the bathroom. He immediately locked himself inside with an audible click that brought grimaces to both of the brothers’ faces.

Of the many new things they were all learning about graceless, human Castiel, the fact that it was looking more and more like he was lactose intolerant was coming to be incredibly inconvenient. Now that food didn’t just taste like molecules to him, he wanted to try everything he could, and was always ordering something different at every diner they stopped at. The night before, the boys had tried to talk him out of getting an apple pie milkshake with dinner to no avail. He was almost more stubborn as a human than he had ever been as a celestial being and despite the way it made his stomach ache, he’d ended up drinking the entire thing to spite them. He’d been paying for it since the early morning hours.

Cas was still locked away long after Sam finished bandaging up his brother and had moved to the table to go through their gear while Dean tried to wash up in what he was sure was the tiniest kitchen sink in existence. It was going about as well as one would expect. Dean flopped into one of the chairs with an exasperated sigh after a few more useless tries to get all of the blood off his arms, glaring at the bathroom door.

“What?” Sam asked with a roll of his eyes that could all but be heard from across the table.

“I need a shower,” Dean grouched, sounding about as petulant and childish as he felt. He was entitled to a bit of whining, he was tired and injured and sore. All he wanted was to was up and hit the road to head home. He raised his voice to yell to Cas, prepared to storm the bathroom if it came down to it. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. “What kind of atrocities are you committing in there?”

“Hey, be nice to your boyfriend,” Sam quipped across from him and Dean sputtered, turning to him with an incensed expression. Ever since the whole “Destiel” thing had come up when they had stumbled across the musical based on Chuck’s “Supernatural” books, Sam had taken to making comments that pushed buttons Dean didn’t even know he had. At the very least, if he had anything to be thankful for, though, he was so, so glad that Castiel had hung back at the bunker for that hunt. He probably would have died on the spot if Cas had been there for that conversation.

“Say that one more time and I’ll punch you in the neck,” Dean growled loudly, ignoring the way his ears were burning. That plan failed almost immediately when he heard a muffled “be nice to your brother!” from the bathroom and he flushed all the way up his neck.

He did the only thing he knew how, yelling back “Sure thing, dad,” with all the snark he could muster. He avoided Sam’s eyes, but still felt his stomach drop when Sam’s face adopted the evil little brother grin that every older sibling feared.

“I didn’t pin you for having a daddy kink. To each their own,” Sam muttered under his breath with a nonchalant shrug, his smirk widening into a full body laugh as Dean all but combusted on the spot. The older brother stood, fully prepared to launch himself at the smug moose of a man across from him when the bathroom door opened and Cas tread out with his trademark squint and head tilt on full display.

“I am not your father,” he said seriously as his blue eyes locked on Dean’s. Sam looked a bit like he was choking as he held in quiet chuckles while Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Sarcasm, Cas.”

“Right,” Cas replied, staring at him for a moment more and Dean shook his head, brushing past him and finally making his way into the bathroom. He heard muffled laughter and a “nice one, Cas” through the wall when he groaned audibly, almost gagging as he tried not to breathe before he could throw open the window. They were never letting Cas have a milkshake again.

The three men chose to head out shortly after Dean emerged from the shower, rather than spend another night in the motel. Braving the nine-hour drive back to the bunker they called home with tired eyes and aching bones was always preferable to scratchy motel sheets on top of beds that left kinks in their spines. They stumbled through the door and down the stairs around seven in the morning, all but sleepwalking as they made beelines for their respective rooms the moment they dropped their gear in the library. Dean would never admit it out loud, but they were getting too old for this shit.

•••

Some ten hours later, Dean reemerged from his room and had holed up in the kitchen to avoid his brother in the library. Sam had had the “I might have found a case for us” look on his face when he’d passed through fifteen minutes before and it was honestly the last thing he wanted to hear about. They had only just gotten back. They could use a day or two of down time in his opinion, but he knew his little brother had a differing view. Saving people, hunting things, that was what was important, relaxation and comfort be damned.

Dean started the coffeepot before digging into the pantry, knowing Cas would bitch if he couldn’t pour himself a cup the moment he wandered in, whenever that would be. Dean had called him a princess for it more than once. Sure, everyone could be a little bit of a grump in the morning, but a Cas without coffee was a thing to behold.

After his first few days in the bunker, it had become apparent that the liquid gold seemed to be a necessary element to his every day survival as a human and Dean had tried to teach the former angel how to use the coffee pot so he wouldn’t have to rely on someone else waking up before him. He had immediately regretted it when Cas managed to almost set the kitchen and himself on fire. Despite the fact that they had been standing side by side in front of the machine at the time of near combustion, neither of them were entirely certain how that string of events had even occurred, not that Dean was very interested in finding out either. It was bad enough that he’d had to go out and buy a new coffeemaker after that incident had managed to melt the one they had kept around for the past few years after nicking it from one of the nicer hotels they had stayed in. He’d complained at first that it wasn’t the same, but neither Sam nor Cas seemed to mind, so he’d ended up shutting up about it.

Dean taught Cas to cook with some trepidation a week or so later, finally caving after being asked one too many times. To his surprise, teaching Cas to cook had been easy, really, and it was nice to have an extra set of hands in the kitchen when he needed them. Sure, sometimes the pasta was a little past al dente and his burgers had started off resembling hockey pucks, but it honestly went a million times better than when Dean had tried to teach Sammy as kids. His brother still wasn’t allowed to make anything more complicated than boxed mac and cheese and even that was questionable.

Dean was just coming out of the pantry with the necessary supplies to make lasagna when Cas shuffled into the kitchen with half closed eyes and bedhead that somehow managed to be even crazier than his typically untamable mane. He spied the coffee pot and made a beeline for it, mumbling something that sounded a whole lot like “I could kiss you” as he poured himself a cup and Dean felt his ears turn pink. He quickly busied himself with finding cheese in the fridge, trying to convince himself to cool it, Cas was obviously talking to the coffee pot. Why would Cas ever say that to him? Why was he even thinking Cas had said that to him? It was just a saying. A saying Cas most definitely said to the coffee pot. Not him. Obviously.

“Could you pass me the milk?” Cas asked from somewhere near his elbow, interrupting the mini crisis he was having. Dean back tracked so fast he almost hit his head on the fridge door. More and more often lately the successful and deadly hunter had been reduced to a bumbling idiot around the man he called his best friend. He tried not to think about it.

Dean coughed, quickly passing over the almond milk they had bought especially for him without saying a word, earning himself one of Cas’s rare soft smiles as a thank you. Dean felt his own lips quirking up in response as Cas held his gaze for that moment too long as he was prone to, blue eyes warm and happy in a way that Dean had only started seeing once Cas had settled into the bunker with them. It made something burn warmly deep behind his ribs and he, of course, ignored it. Instead he busied himself with his lasagna quest, which brought him shoulder to shoulder with the former angel as he fixed his coffee on the empty counter space next to him.

“Lasagna sound good?” Dean asked him as he started laying everything out and Cas brightened from his spot by his side, nodding quickly after he took a sip from his mug. Cas was a sucker for Italian. That discovery had unfortunately come hand in hand with finding out about his dairy allergy. None of them really liked to think about it.

Dean paused when he touched the cheese he had dug out of the fridge, cursing himself for forgetting what would happen if Cas took even the smallest of bites. Luckily, Dean had a lot of practice with improvising meals growing up, so taking cheese out of recipes wasn’t too much of a heart break. Usually. Lasagna was kind of a different entity in that regard, but Dean figured he could probably swing it.

Dean fiddled with the bag of mozzarella, side-eyeing Cas after a moment as he voiced what he was thinking in what he was hoping was a relatively neutral way. “I’m gonna leave the cheese out of your side, okay?” 

Cas frowned and Dean continued before he could try to convince him otherwise. “Trust me here, it’ll still be good. I wouldn’t do that to you if it wasn’t gonna be. And how ‘bout you come with me on the next grocery run and we can try to find you some lactose free cheese?”

Cas looked skeptical, but nodded after a moment, looking at him thoughtfully over his coffee. “I would like that. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean just shrugged it off, huffing out a laugh. “Yea, yea. Any day the bathroom isn’t a warzone is a good day in my opinion.” Dean nodded to the tomatoes and cutting board, looking back at him after a moment. “Help me make the sauce? I’d ask Sammy, but-”

Cas interrupted him, dragging a tomato and knife toward himself as he set his coffee off to the side. “Please don’t ask your brother.”

Cas had been unfortunate enough to accept Sam’s offer of a pancake breakfast his third day in the bunker while Dean had been out working a solo case in the area. Needless to say, Castiel still wouldn’t go near pancakes, despite how many times Dean had tried to tempt him.

Dean grinned to himself, starting the water for the noodles on one burner while he browned the beef, onions, and garlic in a pan for the sauce. They quickly settled into an easy rhythm as they worked, Cas occasionally posing questions while Dean hummed along to the radio. Dean had broken into full blown song and dance by the time the giant and the kid wandered in, unaware of the quiet giggles behind him while Cas watched him with fond eyes.

He spun to face Cas as he used the wooden spoon as a microphone and immediately caught sight of Sam and Kevin snickering. He flipped them off without pausing his performance, though the movement made pain lance through the wound on his shoulder. He covered his wince as he turned a glare on Cas for not warning him that they were there. The ex-angel just looked back innocently, fighting a smile.

“Make yourselves useful and set up a couple of trays in front of the TV, would you?” Dean asked a moment later after he had had his fun, glancing at the other two.

“Ok, mom,” Sam snipped back without venom, ducking when Dean threw an empty pasta box in his direction. It didn’t matter how old they got, Dean would always mother hen his little brother and his brother would always be a gigantic pain in the ass.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean came around slowly, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut tightly against the light of the lamp on his bedside table. His pulse pounded out a steady and painful beat behind his temples and his tongue was sandpaper dry in his mouth, tasting of cheap beer and whiskey. Attempting to do anything as athletic as getting out of bed was far from effortless and alerted him to the ache in his knees and back. Same old, same old. Either way, he knew he was definitely going to hear it from his brother and Cas for how much he had had to drink after dinner the night before. They were all getting too old for late night movie marathons.

When he finally braved opening his eyes, he rubbed a hand over his face, and winced as it pulled at the stitches in his shoulder. He was getting real sick of being hurt all the time. Honestly, he was getting pretty sick of a lot of things, but that was a story for another time.

He shoved himself to his feet a few moments later, carefully stretching so his joints still popped like he needed them to without aggravating his wound. Hung-over and half asleep, he stubbed his toe and almost stumbled into a wall more than once on his way to the kitchen, swearing loudly in surprise. He hushed himself immediately, cursing quietly. He knew he would live to regret it if he had woken Cas up. Sleep was the one thing about becoming human that the former angel seemed to appreciate. Besides coffee of course. Though he would probably kill for either in a heartbeat.

Speaking of which, Dean lumbered into the kitchen, sending out a silent thank you to whoever had gotten around to making the early morning pot before the rest of the bunker had even opened their eyes. He was slumped at the table with the biggest mug he could find when Cas shuffled in, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He went through his usual routine in front of the percolator before joining Dean at the table, both of them quiet. There was something incredibly peaceful about mornings in the bunker and Dean hoped he would never lose it. The bunker had been a saving grace for their little nomadic family.

Cas hummed to himself over his first sip of coffee, his feet bumping Dean's calves under the table. Dean glanced up at him with raised eyebrows and received a small smile over a coffee mug in response. Dean felt the skin around his eyes crinkle as his mouth quirked up to match and he quickly looked down at his coffee before he could do or say anything stupid. He wasn’t sure how to deal with a Cas that wasn’t a grumpy bear in the morning. He struggled with that enough as it was. The damn ex-angel was adorable no matter what he did, and it was starting to drive Dean a little nuts. The fact that he was wearing one of Dean’s old t-shirts didn’t make it any easier.

Dean rolled his eyes at himself, rising from his seat to dump the last dregs of his coffee down the sink before he could start thinking too hard. Cas wasn’t like this often, but even still, Dean always made sure to distance himself from Cas on his more affectionate days. As much as Dean hated to admit it to himself, and as much as he tried to beat down all those thoughts and feelings, he had a thing for his best friend. And that thing happened to be a full-grown, warm and fuzzy creature that lived inside his chest and head butted his heart every time Cas was around. Hell, he didn't even have to be around for Dean's heart to start doing a samba. It was pathetic. Living with the ex-angel had only made it worse, but Dean could deal with the discomfort and awkwardness if it meant Cas was happy, healthy and safe. Well, he at least thought he could. He’d certainly lived through worse.

Dean busied himself with washing last night's dishes and almost jumped out of his skin when a warm body pressed up against his side. He froze, every muscle taut to the point of vibrating as he watched Cas's arm snake around his waist to drop a mug in the sink. Cas didn't seem to notice his change in posture, leaning against his shoulder with a murmured “Hello Dean.”

"What the hell Cas," Dean sputtered as his muscles released all at once and he jumped away like he'd been scalded, putting a good few feet between them. He let out the breath he had been holding as he avoided Cas’s gaze, doing his best to ignore the way his heart had started jumping around like a hyperactive puppy at that first bit of contact.

Cas just tilted his head, looking confused. Dean stared back at him, regretting meeting those damned blue eyes of his when the creature inside him chewed at his ribs, begging to be let out. All he wanted was to lean back into that touch and it was absolutely terrifying. Feeling that way about an angel, Cas no less, was wrong on more levels than he could count on all of his fingers and toes.

Dean coughed slightly, crushing those thoughts at their root and kicking them under the carpet, just like he had every other time. He crossed his arms over his chest, blurting “personal space, man. I thought we've been over this,” automatically, doing everything and anything he could to keep up appearances. Cas would never have to carry the burden of knowing how he felt if he never did anything that turned his thoughts in that direction.

Still, Dean kicked himself when Cas's confused squint shifted into something that almost looked hurt. Dean pretty much always acted like an asshole when shit like this came up. It wasn’t even like he was unaware of the person he turned into when his walls went up, not that that would excuse it either. He did it on purpose, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He knew it. Even Sam knew it. Cas was the only oblivious one, which only made it worse. It was his own fault he felt like this, he didn't need to take it out on Cas. He just didn’t know what else to do. There wasn’t anything else he could do.

“Dean-” the front door of the bunker slammed, cutting off whatever Cas had been opening his mouth to say.

Sam stopped short as he stepped into the kitchen, his forehead creasing as he looked between his brother and friend. “What's up?”

His brother avoided his eyes, brushing past him as he mumbled something about a shower. Sam shrugged, stepping over to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

“I have a possible case to talk to you about later, okay?” He called after him, before turning to speak to Cas. “What's with him?” Sam asked, turning to Cas as he brushed a hair away from his face.

“I don't know.” Cas looked at the floor, fiddling with the hem of the worn Led Zeppelin t-shirt he was wearing. One of Dean's. Despite going out with him to buy his own clothes, Cas almost always fell back on the hand-me-downs he had gotten when he first arrived. Sam had to hide his smirk when Cas looked up.

Cas quickly changed gears before Sam could take the time to examine the situation any further, looking up at his friend. “I take it you’re feeling better this morning?”

Sam nodded, a small smile lighting his face as he stretched out his shoulders. “Yea, thanks Cas. The headaches and dizzy spells are getting fewer and far between. The trials had me out for the count for a while, but I think I’m gonna kick it in the ass soon enough.”

Cas nodded, his expression shifting into something a little more regretful. “Your healing process could have been much faster if I still had my grace, I apologize that I haven’t been of much use to you.”

Sam frowned, dropping a hand on to Cas’s shoulder before he could wander out of the room and away from the conversation as he had gotten into a habit of. “You’re family Cas, grace or no grace. Don’t worry about if you’re useful to us, that’s the last thing we would think about. We’re just happy to have you here. Okay?” Sam held his eyes, clapping him on the shoulder when Cas nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“I’m gonna go see if I Dean left me any hot water, and then do you want to talk about the case Kev and I found?” Sam asked a moment later, starting out of the kitchen and Cas followed, murmuring his agreement as he headed off in the direction of his room.

•••

By the time Dean emerged from his room squeaky clean in fresh clothes, he was surprised that he hadn't seen or heard a squeak out of Cas. He usually didn't go more than an hour without popping in on at least one of the brothers in the quiet way of his that made Dean wish the dude wore a bell so that they would be able to hear him coming up on them.

He wandered his way into the library and felt a stab of irritation and guilty relief when he didn’t spy the defeathered nerd hiding amongst the books. Not that he was looking for him or anything. He was just making his rounds and if he happened upon Cas then he could ask him what the hell was going on. That was if he could grow the balls and say something. But either way, he definitely wasn't looking for him. Not at all.

Dean ended up settled at one of the tables, mindlessly flipping through a book he had pulled off the shelves for some reason or another last week. At this point, he couldn’t even remember if it had been for a case or not, it was just something to make him look busy while he stewed in his own thoughts.

Today wasn’t just one of their usual bad days where Dean lashed out and managed to hurt everyone else in the process. He could feel something was different this time, he just didn't know what. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to know. Except he had to know, because it could mean the difference between his world continuing as normal, or completely falling apart.

He could remember that he, Cas, Kevin, and Sam had been catching up with Game of Thrones the night before after dinner with some clarity, but he had only had a beer or two in him at that point. Sammy had called it quits shortly after the episode ended and retired to his room with complaints of a headache. This left Dean and Cas halfway through the old episode of Star Trek Dean had turned on for “educational purposes” while Kevin snored away in the comfy arm chair they had bought for him the month before. Dean pulled out a bottle of Jack shortly after his brother’s departure, joking with Cas that he wasn't nearly drunk enough to deal with all of his questions.

Cas had just rolled his eyes at him, one of the many human gestures he had quickly picked up from hanging out with Sammy. The man living in the bunker with them now had grown so far from the angel he had first summoned with Bobby it was borderline unsettling. At times his mannerisms and gestures reminded Dean eerily of the Cas from the future that never came to pass and it knocked the wind right out of the hunter. But they'd stopped the apocalypse. Dean didn't have to worry about that timeline ever coming true.

Dean shook himself, getting back on track. His memories of the night before got fuzzy and scrambled around the time Cas had coaxed the bottle out of his hand and placed it out of his reach, claiming that he had had enough. It was the last thing he could remember. He had no idea how he had managed to get to his bed, hell, he'd barely been able to sit up straight by the time Cas finally seemed to be getting what was going on in the show. He was surprised, but in no way complaining that he hadn't woken up in an uncomfortable position on the couch.

The sound of someone walking up on him startled him into turning a page and all but burying his face in the book he had been gripping in front of himself. Sam joined him at the table with his laptop, looking like he was itching to tell Dean something, though he kept quiet. Dean finally had enough of pretending to read while he freaked out inside and fixed his fidgety younger sibling with an exasperated look, giving him his undivided attention.

“I think Kev and I found a case. Akron, Ohio PD have found five arms and six legs so far in the last week. A torso showed up yesterday with all of its organs missing,” Sam summarized the article he had in front of him as he spoke and Dean reached out for his laptop, grateful for the distraction even if he wasn’t gunning to leave on a hunt just yet.

“Where’s the other arm though,” Dean muttered as he scanned the page and Sam sighed, grabbing his laptop back a moment later to do another search. He shook his head and shrugged as an answer to Dean’s question.

“Could be a werewolf or maybe some kind of pagan god? Or maybe another Doc Benton?” Sam asked, trying to get the ball rolling while he focused most of his energy on seeing if there had been any updates to the case since he’d checked last.

“The immortal doc?” Dean asked and Sam nodded. “Of course. The freaks always come out to play when we think we might have caught a day or two to stick around.”

Sam focused on Dean with frown. “That’s the job, man. You know that. You taught me that.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Dean grumbled, his chair scraping across the floor as he stood and returned his book to its place on the shelf with a little more force than was necessary. So maybe he was pissed about having to immediately leave on another case. Sue him. In his opinion, he had every right. It would be nice to get to relax every once in a while.

Sam glanced up at him from his computer with a long-suffering look, clearly irritated with his brother’s attitude. “Dude. Quit being a pissbaby. I get that you wanted a day off, but people are dying. Go find Cas, let him know what’s going on and hit up the weapons room to get what we need. I’m gonna make a few calls and get the rest of our shit together, okay?”

“I’m not his keeper, why don’t you find Cas and I’ll start packing up Baby?” Dean asked as he faltered, his hackles rising defensively. Why did he have to always be the one to find Cas? His brother was his friend too.

Sam shut his laptop with a snap and stood, his voice as hard as his stony expression as he spoke. “Because you’re acting like an asshole again and Cas is upset about something and you two need to talk it out before we leave on this case so you guys aren’t distracted again! I’m so sick of you two. This cycle of bullshit needs to end. Stop being an emotionally constipated ass for once in your life and fix this.” Sam left no room for argument, fixing Dean with a glare before he left the room. Dean didn’t know if he wanted to punch something or run so far away they never found him.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean wandered the bunker, trying to keep as far from Sam as he could manage. He didn’t care what his brother said, the last thing he wanted to do was go find Cas and talk about the thing he had refused to touch with a ten foot pole for months now. Hell, he’d had hidden feelings of some kind for his best friend for years and he hadn’t said a word about it. Why the hell would he want to change that now?

Sure, he didn’t want to fight with Sam, he hated being at odds with his brother more than almost anything. Fighting never got them anywhere, anyway, and their family problems hadn’t made things like preventing the apocalypse or attempting to shut up hell any easier. They were still learning to talk it out instead of throwing punches and hurtful words. Dean knew that he especially was a guilty party in that regard and he sure as hell wasn't proud of it. And he definitely didn’t want today to turn into another one of those times, which really limited his choices. He didn’t feel ready to talk about it either, though. He didn’t know that he would ever be ready for that conversation if he was being honest with himself, but he had to do something.

Despite the unease he felt growing in the pit of his stomach, he actually did as he was told for the first time in a long time and went on the hunt for his friend. He was going to fix it somehow, but he wasn’t going to talk about his feelings, Sam’s opinion be damned. If he played his cards right, the way he felt about Cas would be a secret he took to his grave. Nothing good would come of him revealing them. Regardless, he had to fix what was going wrong today somehow. He owed Cas and his brother that much at least.

He checked the usual places first and was almost relieved when he found Cas’s bedroom and the chair in front of the fireplace to be empty. He made his way toward the astronomy tower on a hunch, remembering something Cas said about how being close to the sky grounded him. It didn’t make any sense, at least to Dean, but he had never been an angel, so what did he know.

Dean almost walked straight into Cas as he started up the spiral staircase and he stepped back quickly, startled. Once he got a good look at the man in front of him, however, he almost started laughing, but was able to nip in the bud before he upset Cas any further. The ex-angel was thoroughly soaked from head to toe and none too happy about it. He almost looked like a drowned kitten with those big blue eyes of his.

“It rained,” Cas griped, not quite meeting Dean’s eyes as he curled farther around his crossed arms, rocking back on his heels a little.

“I can see that,” Dean chuckled despite himself, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly. “Are you okay man?”

“I just need to get dry,” Cas replied and Dean nodded, turning his heel and walking back down the stairs, Cas following a few steps behind. At this point it was looking like neither of them wanted to talk about it. Dean was perfectly fine with that.

Dean glanced at Cas as they navigated the halls down to the living quarters, clearing his throat before speaking. “Sam found a case. Probably gonna head out in a few hours to make it there with enough time to catch a few ZZZ’s before we start.”

“Alright,” Cas said shortly, pausing in front of the door to the showers. “Anything else?”

Dean shook his head and Cas nodded once, disappearing through the door before he could say anything else. Apparently Sam and Cas both thought he was being an asshole. They weren’t wrong.

There had to be something else going on though. Something that was the reason for the dread that was sitting deep down in his belly, the itch in the back of his mind of something he was forgetting. Something bad enough to make Cas refuse to look at him. The dude always held his awkwardly long eye contact with everyone. What happened last night?

He shook off the thoughts before they could plant their seeds too deeply, heading back toward the kitchen after he shoved what he needed into a bag and left his monkey suit out with it on a table in the library. There was plenty of leftover lasagna to last Kevin for the day, but he wanted to make sure there were at least a few prepared meals in the fridge for the kid since they were going to be gone for at least a couple of days. He really felt bad leaving him behind all the time while they went for hunts for days, sometimes a week at a time. It was a little too much like what their dad did to them for him to be comfortable. The last thing he had ever wanted to do was be like his dad.

He was in deep thought and maybe chopping vegetables with a little more aggression than was necessary when the knife sliced into his thumb. The loud string of swears that slipped out of his mouth echoed throughout the quiet bunker, and Dean sighed, stalking over to the sink. He hissed when the water first hit the fresh wound and he almost jumped right out of his skin when Sam skidded to a stop inside the kitchen with his gun drawn. His little brother assessed the situation quickly, rolling his eyes as he let his arm drop to his side once he had decided there was nothing he needed to kill. “You gave me a heart attack. Thanks.”

“I cut my hand,” Dean protested, gesturing at his blood flowing into the sink and Sam just shook his head, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his jeans.

“The whole state didn't need to know.”

Dean opened his mouth to tell him to shut it when Cas all but tripped over the towel clutched to his waist as he rushed through the doorway, almost colliding with the younger Winchester. His eyes flew over Dean before he relaxed, sighing in his own quietly irritated way.

“Dean was just being a baby,” Sam assured him, deciding to tease his brother, rather than remain irritated with him, at least for the moment. When Dean didn’t have a response for that, Sam looked at him in surprise. Dean was staring at Cas, well, at least he was until Sam caught his eye. Then he was red up to the roots of his hair and mumbling furiously as he stared down into the sink. When he finally found his words, his face was almost back to normal again, except for two spots of color high on his cheeks.

“Haven't we all agreed to wear clothes around the bunker?” He asked in a strained voice, quickly looking down as he shut off the water and wrapped a dish towel around his hand, grateful for the distraction, even if it meant he was hurt. Again. Okay, maybe grateful was the wrong word.

Cas looked down at himself and pulled the towel tighter, his ears turning pink while Sam looked between them like Dean had three heads. “Since when do any of us care? We’ve never even talked about that.”

“It was like an unspoken agreement!” Dean’s voice rose in octave as he avoided meeting either of their gazes and he coughed before continuing in something that resembled his regular voice. “I don't care. You don't care. Cas obviously doesn't care. So we don't care. No rule then. Okay.”

“It's not like your dead guy robe counts as clothes anyway,” Sam retorted, squinting as he watched his brother try to pretend he wasn’t having some kind of crisis.

“It does too!” Dean objected indignantly. “And don't call it that.”

Sam just snorted. Dean shook his head before returning to the vegetables, determined to ignore them and finish what he had started, cut hand be damned. Another set of hands pulled the cutting board down the counter and away from him. He turned to glare at their owner and was met by Cas's stubborn blue eyed gaze. He all but swallowed his tongue, resolutely keeping his eyes up, despite how easy it would be to let them wander…

He snapped back to attention, feeling his face warm impossibly more as Cas spoke. “Go get your hand in order. You don't need to bleed all over the food,” Cas ordered as he blocked Dean’s way to the counter, glaring at him stubbornly despite his earlier embarrassment.

Dean looked to Sam for help and his brother just smirked from the seat he had settled in at the table. “Cas is right, man.”

“Whatever. You win. It’s chicken noodle soup, you remember how to make that?” Dean spoke at Cas rather than looking at him, resolutely ignoring Sam who was watching him. He saw Cas nod out of the corner of his eye and he took that as his cue to leave. If Dean fucked up his brother’s hair on his way by, well, it wasn't exactly a surprise.

•••

When he came back, Cas was fully clothed and geared up to leave with his back to the kitchen door as he faced the stove, finishing up making the soup Dean had been starting when he sliced and diced his hand. Seeing Cas dressed like a hunter was still a strange experience for Dean. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, which reminded him that he wasn’t supposed to feel any way about it. Which reminded him that he was completely and utterly screwed.

He didn’t think the whole situation could get any worse, but then Sam coughed quietly from his seat at the table, narrowing his eyes at Dean before returning to whatever he had been doing on his laptop. So Sam still expected them to talk about it. Of course. His day honestly couldn’t go any better.

Dean purposefully ignored him, walking over to Cas with some reluctance. “Thanks for finishing it for me, Cas. Need any help?”

Chicken noodle soup was something that Dean had only taught Cas to make fairly recently, but just by looking in what was going on in the pot, it was easy to see he could hold his own. Dean couldn’t help the small swell of pride he felt rushing in to fill the spaces between his ribs, only his eyes showing a smile he wouldn’t dare let loose on the world.

Cas shook his head, glancing at Dean. “It’s all together, it just needs to cook now.”

Sam piped up before they could say anything more, “If you can set a timer, I could take it off when it’s done if you guys want to go dig through the Weapon’s Room and pack up the Impala.”

Cas and Dean turned to look at him with matching looks of apprehension.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not actually cooking, I think I can manage. We need to get going in a bit.” Sam glared at them both for their lack of faith and while Cas looked abashed, Dean looked unwilling to budge for what both brothers knew was a much different reason. Sam fixed him with eyes that said he wasn’t going to give him a chance to argue about this. He was going to be alone with Cas and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Fine, but if you fuck up my soup, you have Kevin to answer to,” Dean muttered, pointing threateningly at his brother as he passed him to leave. Sam shook his head before looking back to Cas who was setting a timer on the oven.

“Just stir it occasionally and turn off the burner when the timer goes off. You don’t even have to move it,” Cas instructed quietly and Sam nodded. Sam grabbed his arm before he could walk out the door and Cas raised his head to look at him.

“Don’t let him be a jackass, okay? You don’t deserve that.”

“I know,” was all Cas said before he continued on his way, following the same short path Dean had taken to the Weapon’s Room.

Dean spoke the moment he heard the door open behind him, trying to gain some sense of control over a situation he felt was slowly falling to pieces around him, every atom within him struggling to hold onto everything he had built to prevent his feelings from ever seeing the light of day. “So something is tearing people apart in Ohio and the police there have found some arms and legs so far. And a torso that was scooped clean. We’re thinking werewolf, some kind of pagan crap, or another dude that harvests people to live forever,” he said more calmly than he was feeling, looking over his shoulder at Cas a moment later to see if he was following what he had said. “Did we tell you about that one? Doc Benton?”

“Yes, and he wasn’t the first to attempt immortality, he certainly won’t be the last. All of the organs were gone?” Cas asked and Dean nodded, absentmindedly spinning the wooden stake he had picked up in his hand. “And they haven’t found any heads?”

“Nope. You know of anything that does that?”

Cas squinted, shrugging at him. “Your guess is as good as mine, though we can probably rule out werewolf, I doubt one would go through the time and effort to dismember a corpse. They only want the heart.”

“That’s what I was thinking, but you never know. Could be one that got smart and is trying to throw hunters off.”

Cas shrugged again in response and Dean glanced at the ground, trying to ignore how things were weird with them. Talking and being around each other had been easy for a long time, but something had changed, especially since Cas started living in the bunker and Dean was forced to recognize that some of the feelings he had for his best friend were not strictly platonic. He thought he’d been fairly good at burying them, but he was starting to seriously doubt that, if how things were going today were any indication.

“You mind looking for the blowtorch while I bring these out to Baby?” Dean asked a moment later, holding up a small bundle of wooden stakes and Cas looked back, confused. “I figure if it’s another dude playing at organs being the real fountain of youth, a good torching should set him right until we can put him six feet under, or find some other way to gank him.”

He headed for the door when Cas signaled his understanding and went off his own way to search. Dean didn't get very far. The knob turned in his hand, but the door refused to open for him. He tried to shake it, but the door held fast.

“Son of a bitch. What kind of idiot makes a weapons room that locks you in.”

Cas appeared at his shoulder after a moment, squinting at the space between the door and its frame. “They didn't.”

“What do you mean they-” Dean shut up when Cas pointed out that there was no evidence of a bolt being in the locked position.  

“Then how the hell...” Realization dawned on Dean’s face and he roared his little brothers name, only to hear a muffled laughter in response. “Let us out you son of a bitch!”

Dean’s phone buzzed as he got a text and he looked down to see that Sam had texted him “no.” With a smiley face. He was going to kill him.

Dean dropped his forehead on his arm that was braced against the door, swearing quietly.

“Dean?” Cas asked, “Is this the start of another ‘prank war’?”

Dean huffed out a laugh at Cas’s use of air quotes despite his irritation, turning his head to look at his best friend. “It is now.”

“Can we be allies this time?” Cas looked less than thrilled by the idea of another Winchester prank war. The last one had started shortly after he showed up as a human at the bunker. It resulted in Dean's dead guy robe nearly being lit on fire while he was still in it and every article of clothing Cas and Sam owned being hidden throughout the bunker. Unpaired socks, boxers, and flannels were still being discovered in the unlikeliest of places. Sam had the misfortune of finding an entire nest of boxers in the ceiling of an unused hall only a week ago, when the weight of a squirrel family that had taken residence finally proved to be too much and the tile and its contents crashed over his head. Sam had left Dean to clean up that mess. Catching the squirrels was a lot harder than he could have ever imagined, but Cas had been adamant that he couldn’t just shoot them.

Dean smiled briefly, clapping Cas on the shoulder. “Sounds like a plan, angel.”

Cas's face fell slightly and he fumbled with a knife he had picked up before putting it back in its place and Dean sighed, dropping his head forward onto his arm once again.

“Sorry, Cas.”

The loss of his grace was a touchy subject with Cas, Sam had tried more than once to talk to him about it and had made little to no progress. Hell, Dean had even tried his hand at the touchy-feely self-help yoga crap his brother spewed, which had ended with Cas and him watching old movies on the couch instead of actually talking. Heaven had once been everything to Cas and falling had been incredibly hard on him. Dean knew it. They all knew it. It was going to be a long time before he felt comfortable talking about it, but Dean would be there when that time came. Cas was family and he would never have to feel alone again, not if Dean had any say in it.

Castiel didn't say anything and Dean sighed, shuffling over to throw himself onto one of several benches that were placed periodically throughout the room. He lay on his back, digging his phone out of his pocket when it buzzed again.

This text told him he had an hour or less to talk it out with Cas or else. Dean didn’t really want to think about what Sam might do if they didn’t. Dean tried reasoning with him and the only response he got to his demands that quickly became pleas was the same no with the stupid smile. He almost threw his phone away from himself, deciding against it when he remembered where he was. He would probably break it, or even worse, send a sword or axe toppling down on one of them. Accidental homicide probably wasn't a part of Sam's plan. He only wanted Cas and Dean to talk, which was obviously going smoothly already.

Part of him wished he had some way to go back and change what he had said moments before. Sure, he still thought of Cas as the angel on his shoulder despite all that had happened, but Cas was human now and probably forever. There was no changing that. And it was fine. The brothers didn’t care whether or not Cas had his wings, he was their friend and he was family. They hadn’t always treated him right or been there for him when he needed it, but they were trying their damnedest now to make up for all the problems and pain they had caused him.

Dean had made it his personal mission to get Cas to understand that whether or not he was useful had no weight in their choice to invite him into their new home ever since Cas had said something that made it sound like he thought otherwise. Cas was stuck with them, plain and simple. They weren't about to let him slip through the cracks and disappear from their lives just because he was a human now. If anything, Dean was glad that his clipped wings meant that he couldn't go flying off. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he couldn’t help but be glad that it meant that Cas would stick around for once.

“He will let us out eventually, we have to leave for the case. You have no need to stress yourself over it.” Dean opened his eyes to see Cas peering down at him with vague concern, though his eyes still held the guarded expression he had been sporting since their first awkward incident in the morning.  

Dean felt his face pull into a reassuring smile. “Not stressed, just thinking.”

Cas nodded curtly, moving to sit down by Dean’s feet, glancing at him hesitantly. Dean gave him a small encouraging smile, taking the plunge into unknown territory as he stretched his bent knees and crossed his legs over Cas's lap. He almost immediately regretted it when Cas stiffened, but he didn’t move away either. Dean breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he shut his eyes and they both began to relax.

Things that most people would consider normal human contact were foreign to them both. Before falling into humanity, Cas had been a part of the heavenly host, watching and guarding his father’s creation without interference or contact unless ordered. And Dean? Well his childhood hadn’t exactly been bedtime cuddles and fairytales. But with time they both had grown and learned that there was more to life than their fathers’ wishes and were better for it. Well, Dean at least hoped so. It was the only reason he was trying any of this crap in the first place. Which reminded him, he had to get around to this “talking” thing eventually. Just thinking about it made him want to puke.

“How's your thumb?” Cas asked after a few beats of silence, startling Dean out of his thoughts and Dean cracked an eyelid to look at him. He said nothing and gave him a thumbs up with his bandaged hand. He was nothing if not sarcastic, which honestly didn’t help their situation much.

Cas threw him an exasperated look and Dean snorted, shaking his head at him. They lapsed into silence again, but this time it was more comfortable and normal than any other time this morning. Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when Cas rested his hands on his shins, idly pulling on the lace of Dean’s worn out boots. Cas withdrew immediately and Dean wanted to kick himself.

“It's fine.” Dean reassured Cas quietly, surprising them both, “I just wasn't expecting that.” Cas looked at him curiously and Dean clamped his jaw shut before he could say anything else. His ears felt very warm.

Still, Cas hesitated and Dean nudged him with a foot. “You can touch me-” Dean's thoughts derailed and he stuttered, face going red. “I mean, uh, you can put your hands on me- oh god that's not any better.” He covered his face with his hands, absolutely mortified. He felt Cas shake underneath his legs and he peeked out at him, his mouth dropping open when he saw the other man's face was creased with quiet laughter. Dean glared at him to stop from laughing himself. He was acting like a fifteen year old with a schoolboy crush.

Dean froze at that thought, blinking quickly. Thoughts like that were not allowed out in general population where there was a very good chance that they could escape. Those kinds of thoughts stayed locked away and forgotten in solitary, never to see the light of day. Ever.

Cas's hand found his ankle again and Dean scrambled away, sitting up and making sure to keep space between himself and Cas. He cleared his throat, his voice coming out gruffer than he intended, “you want to call Sam and see if you can talk some sense into him?” He extended his phone out toward Cas while staring very intently at the ground.

Cas didn't take it, but spoke, his words sending ice down Dean’s spine. “He isn't the one who needs to see sense.”

Dean let his arm drop, not even having to glance at Cas to know he was getting his “I will smite you into next year” glare.

“What do you mean, man?” Dean asked cautiously, feeling the icy dread that had been lying in wait deep in his stomach grow and churn nauseatingly.

“I have tolerated your supposed ignorance all morning, but I should have listened to Sam from the start. I should have listened to you,” Cas said in a gravel soft voice that still held the sparks of lightening that it had as an angel.

“Listened to me? Sam? What are you- Cas I have no idea what you're talking about.” Dean interrupted him before he could say any more and as he turned to look at Cas, he felt his glare physically, like a slap to the face.

Castiel continued to stare at him quietly for a moment before taking a breath, his hands clenching and unclenching where they rest on his thighs. “Sam told me to not let you treat me badly because you're having some sort of crisis.” Cas's jaw clenched as he forced himself to continue. “And last night you... you told me to not let you pretend nothing happened.”

Dean could see a flush spreading up Cas's neck as he stared at Dean, even though he looked like he'd rather be on the other side of the world than having the current conversation.

Dean, on the other hand, was so still he was almost quivering, his brain running through every possible situation that could have occurred between the ex-angel and the very drunk hunter. Every thought only spiraled further into the realm of his brain that he refused to touch. He would wrestle a wendigo barehanded before he let them see the light of day. But he had to find out the truth.

“Cas,” Dean’s voice cracked under the weight of the word that was so much more than just a name, and he took another breath to try again. “What happened last night?”

He wasn't looking at him, he couldn’t look at him, but he heard Cas take a sharp breath and swallow before he started to speak. “Well, you were very drunk. More drunk than I've seen you in a long time. I got worried and I was going to go get Sam, but you wouldn't let me up. Sam was correct, you are much like an octopus when you're drunk.”

Dean couldn't help looking at him then and found that Cas's face was as red as his was. He looked away before they could meet his eyes.

“And you, you said you wanted to tell me a secret. You said it was very important that I didn't tell Dean, which I found to be quite confusing, but you were very insistent. After I promised to keep it to myself, you told me that you liked me, I believe the term was ‘like liked me’. And you said that you-” Cas coughed, shifting in his seat and Dean dropped his head into his hands, every fear he had confirmed in that simple, broken sentence.

“I love you,” he mumbled into his palms, absolutely horrified, too quietly for Cas to hear, and Cas stilled, staring at him. Dean lifted his hands away just enough to look at him. “I told you that I might be in love with you, didn't I?”

Cas nodded jerkily, looking so frightened Dean was ashamed of himself. He had put that look onto the angel’s face. That discomfort, that <i>fear</i>, was his fault. And he had to make it right.

“God, Cas. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” Dean whispered in a broken voice, the rest coming out in a rushed breath. “I never wanted to do that to you and I’m sorry if I creeped you out, or freaked you out, or anything, but I promise you we can forget all about it and pretend it never happened. I will never say anything about it again. But I understand if you want to leave. I’m sorry, Cas.” Dean felt the pinprick of tears behind his eyes and he forced them back, the breath in his lungs nowhere near enough as his body tried to take in more oxygen. Cas didn’t need to see him lose it. He didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t his fault that Dean had fucked everything up between them, probably for good.

Cas stilled, his voice rumbling out with the barely controlled thunder of an oncoming storm. “Dean Winchester, if they had told me that the human I was to raise from perdition was this stupid and ignorant and goddamn clueless, I might have thought twice about accepting the assignment. Are you really so blind?” Dean gaped at him, so shell shocked he couldn't even cringe under the scowl he was being dealt.

“You did not ‘creep’ me out or scare me and I do not want to forget it. You are the bravest goddamn coward in creation and even though I thought I could not love you any more than the day I rebuilt you from the ground up, you have proved me wrong time after time. You have taught me free will and friendship and you caught me when I fell. You have taken me into you family despite all of my failings and given me so much more than you can ever understand. So if you think for a second that I would refuse you, that I don't love you, then maybe-”

If anyone were to ask them how it happened, neither of them would really be able to give a good answer. One moment, Castiel was lecturing Dean and the next Dean's hands were in his hair. That first kiss was far from perfect, it was clumsy and had too much force behind it and Cas's nose managed to poke Dean in the eye somehow, but they had fumbled through everything up to this point, so it wasn't much of a surprise. Or at least it shouldn't have been.

The two men stared at each other with similar deer in the headlights looks before Dean managed a short laugh and then they were both grinning and giggling like idiots.

“I couldn't- I, I could see more air quotes coming.” Dean managed and Cas shoved his shoulder, but the smile on his face gave him away. Their second kiss went a lot more smoothly, along with the half dozen after that. Dean pulled back when the smile on his face threatened to split it in two.

“I'm sorry I'm so stupid.”

“You should be,” Cas huffed and then they were laughing again, all of the tension and awkward moments that had been building for god knows how long between them spilling out and melting away as they leaned into each other, shoulder to shoulder.

The previously stuck door swung open, bouncing off of the wall behind it and Sam slid inside, staring at them with wide eyes that quickly brightened with a smile.

“It sounded like someone was dying, are you guys alright?” He asked and Cas smiled, small and secretive as Dean took his hand.

“We’re better.”

True to his nature, Sam took one look at their joined hands and smiled warmly, but said nothing. His lack of reaction would have unnerved Dean if he hadn’t already been on the move in his direction to shove him in the chest. It was only a playful act of aggression, but Sam still stumbled back a step, his hands going up defensively.

Dean just grinned at him, shouldering the door open. “You’re riding in the back. Next time you pull that kind of stunt, it’ll be the trunk.”

Sam just snorted, rolling his eyes and made to exit, stopping halfway to address them both. “Leave in ten? I’ll meet you in the garage.”

Dean nodded, looking away from Cas to meet his eyes. Sam’s mouth quirked in a small smile and he patted his older brother on the back as he left. He was proud of him. It was about time.

Dean held out his hand to Cas after Sam had gone, looking as shy and uncertain as he felt, all of the tension leaving his shoulders as Cas crossed the room and laced their fingers together without hesitation, his smile as bright as the sun.

“You’re still an idiot,” Cas muttered under his breath as they continued down the hallway together.

Dean turned to him with raised eyebrows and lifted his free arm to show him what he had nabbed on his way out. “Yea? Well at least I remembered the blow torch unlike <i>somebody</i>.”

Cas just rolled his eyes and tugged on his hand, picking up their pace down the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

While their twelve hour drive out to the case was about as uneventful and quiet as they always were, Dean was practically bouncing around in his seat. He hadn’t even known he was carrying around how he felt like a giant weight on his shoulders until it was gone and now he was practically floating. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt something touch his leg and he looked over as Cas curled a hand around his knee, squeezing it gently before going back to looking out the window as the road blew by. Despite the electricity he felt singing in between that small point of contact, the touch was calming more than anything and he settled, slowly relaxing and dropping his free hand on top of Cas’s.

“No groping each other while I sleep, alright? I don’t feel like dying in some kind of hormone fueled crash,” Sam piped up from the back seat while he bunched up a coat to put underneath his head as he leaned against the door and Dean felt his ears go red. He glared at him in the rearview mirror, but Sam’s eyes were already drooping shut, the smug smirk on his face the only indication that he had said anything. He heard Cas let out a quiet laugh next to him, his eyes crinkling in that way Dean loved. Dean froze at that thought, old instincts attempting to raise their heads, but for the first time he was able to nip them in the bud. He loved Cas. And Cas loved him. And everything was alright.

Cas turned to look at him, eyes narrowed quizzically and Dean gave him a small smile, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. Cas returned his smile, leaning his head against the window, content to watch Dean drive until his eyes inevitably drifted closed. The discomfort Dean had once felt under his gaze had grown into fondness. Cas was a weird, dorky little dude, but he was his.

•••

They made it to Akron around two in the morning and Sam went to get them rooms while the other two tried to keep their eyes open in the parking lot. Sam returned a few minutes later, passing Dean a room key as he grabbed his bag out of the back. “Night neighbors,” he said with a mock salute, walking off toward the line of doors before finding his own and disappearing from sight.

Dean sighed and dropped the key on Cas’s chest, startling him back into consciousness. “Up and at ‘em, sleeping beauty.”

Cas groaned and swatted at him, but opened his eyes a moment later and squinted at the room number like it was something foreign. When Dean finally managed to coax him into standing and herded him to their room with both of their bags thrown over his shoulder, Cas was still dead on his feet, swaying into him with every step. Cas at least managed to unlock the door with clumsy hands before stumbling the last few feet into the room and face planting into the bed. Dean snorted, dropping their bags on a chair as he shut and locked the door behind them, doing their usual salt and sigil routine as he moved through the dark room quietly.

Sam had gotten them a room with two beds, which Dean appreciated. They were only just starting to figure things out. As much as Dean would love to fall head first, he also wanted to do things right and at their own pace. They were bound to fuck up somewhere down the line, but that was just how things went with them. They always found their way back to each other at some point anyway.

Dean sat down on the other bed and started to kick off his shoes and pulled off his jacket, listening as quiet snores started to come from Cas’s limp form, signaling that he was well and truly dead to the world. Dean peeled off his jeans before laying back and pulling the sheets over himself, laying on facing Cas despite himself. The slivers of moonlight through the shades in the window were all he had to see by and he fell asleep watching the steady rise and fall of his fallen angel’s chest.

•••

Dean woke to a pillow in the face. He sputtered, striking out and hit what felt like a hip before a body was falling on top of him.

“Ow. Why’d you punch me?” Cas grumbled from on top of him as he shoved the pillow out of the way and flopped on his side next to Dean who blinked at him like at owl as he yawned, still half asleep.

“Why’d you try to smother me with a pillow?” He managed to mumble before he yawned again, reaching out to mess up Cas’s already crazy bedhead. Cas grabbed his arm and pulled him closer, their legs tangled together.

“You weren’t answering me,” he complained, the smile growing on his face contradicting the grumble in his voice.

“I was sleeping,” Dean muttered, reaching his arms above his head to stretch until his back cracked and Cas pressed a kiss to his chin. Dean burst out laughing when he caught the disgruntled look on his face.

“You made me miss,” Cas said with a frown, his grumpy face growing stormier when Dean only laughed harder. He scowled, turning to get out of the bed and Dean wrapped him up in his arms, pulling him back down to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. Cas’s frown was quickly obliterated by a smile as he allowed Dean to pull him down on top of himself.

“You’re cute when you’re all caffeine deprived, you know that?” Dean said quietly, smiling shyly as he ran his hands up and down Cas’s spine. “I’ve wanted to tell you that for a while.”

Cas braced his elbows on either side of Dean’s head, running his fingers through his hair as he looked down at him, looking warm and soft and too damn inviting. Cas cocked his head to one side, questioning him in an equally hushed tone. “So why didn’t you?”

Dean let out a shaky breath. “Too scared. Never thought you’d want any of this,” he murmured, gesturing to the two of them, equally disheveled from sleep, lying with each other like it was the most normal thing in the world. It wasn’t weird, it was so far from weird it was almost scary, but it was definitely different. Dean could work with different.

“Never thought you’d want me too,” Dean added as an afterthought and Cas glared at him before kissing him, pushing him down into the mattress.

“We went over this yesterday, Dean,” he growled between kisses. “You are everything that I want.”

“Everything?”

Cas pulled back to meet his eyes. “Yes.” His face scrunched up in thought a moment later and he amended his statement. “Except for coffee. You’re not coffee. I would very much like some coffee.”

Dean’s head fell back against his pillow as he started laughing all over again. “We can go find you some coffee if you’d like.”

Cas was so enthusiastic about that idea that he kissed Dean again. Sam’s triple knock on the wall next to their heads a minute or so later quickly put an end to that. They officially got up a few minutes later and got cleaned up and geared up in their FBI get ups without incident, though Dean’s brain practically dropped right out of his head when Cas wandered out of the bathroom in a towel because he had forgotten his shampoo. It would have been pretty much their typical first morning on a case, except Sammy wasn’t in the room with them which meant Dean was able to, and for the first time ever allowed to, crowd Cas up against the wall and kiss the stupid cocky grin he had sported when he caught Dean staring right off of his face.

Sam pounded on the wall with a “come on guys, really?” and the two separated, breathing hard, with smiles on their faces. Cas closed himself in the bathroom again reluctantly and Dean had finished getting ready once the shower had started, though nothing could make the smile on his face go away. This was actually happening.

Dean was going through what they had in Baby’s trunk when he almost knocked himself out cold on the trunk lid as he heard “couldn’t you guys wait until after we’re home to slam each other up against walls?” come from the left side of the Impala. He backed up a step, rubbing at the knot on his head as he glared at Sam. Sam just looked amused.

•••

“There was nothing here. It was just some sicko hacking people up. I couldn’t even kill this one, they caught him before us. Since when does that happen? Seriously, what the fuck,” Dean grumbled under his breath as they entered the bunker a day later, dragging his feet as he chucked his bag in a corner.

“It’s dealt with. No one else will ever be hurt by him again. That’s all that matters,” Cas, ever the voice of reason, piped up near him.

Dean chose not to voice that he could ensure that with a bullet.

“You’re back already?” Kevin asked from his seat at the library table, not looking up from his computer.

“Yea, hope we’re not interrupting the wild kegger you’ve got goin’ here,” Dean replied and Kevin let out a short laugh, failing to duck in time when Dean reached out to mess up his hair as he walked by.

“It wasn’t our kind of thing,” Sam explained and Kevin nodded, sliding his headphones back up onto his head from where Dean had knocked them off.

“That soup was awesome, by the way,” Kevin called after Dean who was halfway to his room.

“It was all Cas,” he called back as he stepped inside his room to throw down his duffel and peel off a few layers until he was down to just a t-shirt and jeans. There was a quiet knock on his door as he kicked off his boots and a moment later Cas entered, leaving the door half open behind himself.

“Hi,” he said with a smile, taking Dean’s invitation to sit next to him without hesitation.

“Hi yourself,” Dean replied in an overwhelmingly fond tone, flopping onto his back when he finally got his other boot off.

Cas stayed sitting, looking down at him warmly and the creature in Dean’s chest purred contentedly. This, this was right. Dean could live in moments like this forever, happy and open, and for the first time in a long time, completely himself. There was nothing to hide anymore.

An “I love you,” slipped out of his mouth as easy as breathing when Cas lay beside him and cuddled up as close as he could get. Soft smiles spread across both of their faces, which quickly widened into grins when they heard a muffled bang and Sam swearing. The glitter bomb they had planted in his bag had detonated successfully. Maybe their trip out hadn’t been a total failure. They were definitely in for one hell of a week.


End file.
